Tales of Hogwarts and Beyond
by desertredwolf
Summary: A collection of unrelated drabbles and oneshots for The Houses Competition, Year Three. It's mostly AUs, lots of rare characters, and many interesting pairings. (Note: also contains a surprising amount of drama and tragedy.) There's something here for everyone, though!
1. A Survivor is Born

**Summary:** Not all of the Slytherins leave before the Battle of Hogwarts; some of them come back. Most fight for the Dark, but a few do the right thing.

 **A/N** — This is obviously an AU and also kind of my headcanon (Slytherins fighting for the Light during the Battle of Hogwarts because it is the right thing to do). I used the past tense for the action prompt, "spun."

* * *

 **House:** Hufflepuff  
 **Year:** 4th  
 **Category:** Drabble  
 **Prompt:** [action] spin/spinning  
 **Word Count (not including title or author's notes):** 366 (Google Docs)

* * *

 **A Survivor is Born**

Her feet hit the ground, sinking into the mud and blood, and she started running.

The protective spells surrounding Hogwarts had fallen, and chaos had descended on the grounds. Tracey tried to block out the screams echoing in the air, but it was impossible. She heard every plea for help, every curse. But she couldn't stop, though.

 _Why did I come back?_

She had to keep moving.

A nasty-looking orange curse shot past her shoulder, missing her by a hair. Spinning around, she nailed a Death Eater in the chest with a slightly overpowered Reducto. Another Dark wizard sent a jet of green her way, and she spun behind a pile of rocks for cover. They exploded. Tracey jumped to her feet and cast a blasting curse at the wizard's feet.

If they were casting lethal spells, she sure as hell wasn't going to play nice, either.

She turned the corner and stumbled into a desolated courtyard. It looked like one of the walls had exploded; strewn across the ground were stone and dust. It was empty, and she took a moment to catch her breath.

Why had she come back? Because it was the right thing to do.

It was a new thing for her—these emotions of conviction, regret, and bravery—and she had a nasty feeling that it would get her killed. All she heard echoing in her mind were the words of Albus bloody Dumbledore.

 _'There will come a time when you must choose between what is easy and what is right.'_

Curse him, and his stupid, wise words.

Screams, this time much closer, interrupted her thoughts. Disoriented, she spun in a circle, trying to locate the source. _Where were they coming from—ah, found them._ She saw a group of students—too tiny to be of-age—surrounded by Death Eaters. Tracey gripped her wand tighter and took a deep breath.

Maybe she was going to die today. She hoped not, but it was looking like a possibility. But she was going to do everything in her power to make damn sure that those kids lived.

She was going to save them. It wasn't going to be easy.

But it was the right thing to do.


	2. The Girl in the Walls

**Summary:** The wizarding world is complacent, and history is destined to repeat itself for those who do not learn from it. Twelve years after the fall of Voldemort, a new Dark Lord rises from the shadows. The youngest child of Harry Potter is destined to defeat this new evil, but she is only ten years old. What can she do in the face of overwhelming darkness?

 **A/N —** This is obviously an AU. In this reality, Harry marries Daphne Greengrass (who, in my mind, smacks some sense into him when Albus is sorted into Slytherin). James and Albus are also a good seven and six years older than Lily, respectively.

* * *

 **House:** Hufflepuff  
 **Year:** 4th  
 **Category:** Standard  
 **Prompt:** [action] hiding  
 **Word Count (not including title and author's note):** 1342 (Google Docs)

* * *

 **The Girl in the Walls**

"Sweetheart, wake up!"

Lily Luna Potter woke with a start, her eyes wide open in terror and heart racing. She had been dreaming something pleasant—she couldn't remember what it was about now that she was awake. All she remembered was suddenly feeling afraid.

Groggy, but now somewhat alert, she looked up and saw her mother standing over her. The end of her wand glowed, and it was the only source of light in the otherwise dark room. That was strange in itself, but what immediately caught Lily's attention was the fear on her mother's face.

Her mother was never scared.

"Mum?" she whispered.

"Honey, we have to go. Now. He's here. Your father and brothers are holding him off."

Lily froze. There was only one 'he' that could cause such panic. She was pretty sure her heart stopped beating, and a million thoughts rushed through her mind.

They had listened to the news for the last few weeks, and it hadn't been good. Dark creatures—some that had been thought to be only legends—swarmed the countryside, and Reapers—followers of the new Dark Lord—had sent cities into chaos. Her father urged her to say his name, explaining that it only gave him more power if she didn't, but Lily couldn't. He was everything from her nightmares times one thousand, and he had sworn he would hunt her down.

All because of a cryptic prophecy.

Her mother seemed to sense her hesitation, and she pulled her out of bed and onto her feet. Lily's senses were overloaded. She caught the scent of her mother's perfume—roses—and the sight of her messy blonde hair, tied back in a loose bun. It was all seared into her memory.

Everything was happening too quickly. Then, just as fast, time slowed down.

Daphne lifted her chin and looked her in the eye. Lily looked into the blue eyes that were so different from her brown ones.

"This fight is not over," she said. "Not by a long shot. Do you hear me? We will win, but we have to get you to safety."

Lily nodded and held her hand tightly. She tried to be comforted by her mother's words, but it was hard to be confident when it was clear they were both terrified.

Daphne smiled grimly. Suddenly, an explosion rocked the floor. A loud, agonizing scream echoed downstairs. Spellfire blasted louder in her ears; the fight was moving closer. Without hesitation, her mother pulled her near and Apparated them both out of the room.

They appeared in the entryway of an empty home. What struck Lily most was the sudden quiet. She looked up at her mother, a list of questions ready to roll off her tongue.

"We're in the Forest of Dean," she explained. "Your father set this up as a last resort."

Lily looked around. She could see glimpses into other rooms—a small kitchen, a barren living room—and had a sudden desire to explore. There was a thick layer of dust on the ground, but her steps didn't leave footprints. It was all an illusion and intricate enchantments.

"We have to keep moving," Daphne urged. "Just because we are far away, does not mean we are safe."

Lily thought that her father would have called her paranoid; she also knew her mother was incredibly smart. There was every cause to be concerned if she was still worried. She nodded and followed her upstairs.

They quickly made their way into the room at the end of the hall and stood in front of a large painting on the back wall. It was a landscape of a castle on a windswept moor. Daphne released her hand. Lily watched as she reached for the hidden blade beneath her sleeve. She slid the knife across the palm of her hand; Lily winced in sympathy. Her mother pressed her palm against the picture.

The canvas glowed, and the bloody handprint faded into the art. There was a soft click. Lily instinctively took a step back, and the painting swung forward on a hinge to reveal a crawlspace. Family heirlooms and other keepsakes filled the space.

"Go on," Daphne urged. She was talking to Lily, but her eyes were fixed firmly on the doorway behind them. She was ready for a fight. Her wand was in one hand, and the knife was in the other. In Lily's mind, her mother looked like a warrior queen, fierce and unrelenting.

Lily was afraid—of the Dark Lord and his followers, but also of the finality in these actions. Her brothers were fighting next to her father in their home, and her mother was doing everything in her power to protect her. Lily tried to remember what the last thing she said to James or Albus and found that she couldn't remember.

She started crying.

"I d-don't want to!" she sobbed. Her mother looked down at her, and her features softened. She knelt and pulled Lily into a hug.

"You have to, Lily," she whispered. "There's no time."

Daphne pushed her into the crawlspace, ignoring her tears and protests. Lily brushed against a stack of tomes, some of which she recognized as Greengrass family spellbooks. Lily saw the Sword of Gryffindor and vaguely wondered when her father had retrieved it from Hogwarts. Along one wall were piles of Galleons.

They were all diversions, meant to distract anyone who happened to find a way into the crawlspace—however unlikely that was.

"I love you," Lily said through her tears. Her mother smiled.

"I love you, too." She reached in and pressed the hilt of the knife into Lily's hand. "There's another door in the back. And if we can't come and get you—if the worst happens—I promise there's a way out."

Then the painting swung closed, and everything was still.

Lily carefully made her way to the back wall by touch and tried to not knock into too many objects. After thirty agonizing seconds—it felt so much longer—she navigated her way to the back. She looked at the knife and sighed.

"Really, Mum?" she whispered.

Closing her eyes, she quickly drew the edge along her palm, just like her mother had done earlier, and pressed her hand against the wall. This time, an outline of a small door glowed before materializing. Lily crawled into the secret room. She closed the hatch behind her, and it melted back into the wall once more. It was as if it had never been there.

This space was different. While it was smaller than the crawlspace, a soft glow illuminated the area; there was no obvious source of the light.

Turning around in the tight space, she noticed a small package in the corner. She picked it up and carefully opened it. Inside was a worn pocket watch. Lily flipped it over in her hand and saw that there was a name on the back.

Wondering who 'Fabian Prewett' was, she settled in and waited for her family to come for her.

The old watch still worked and provided her with an accurate count of each agonizing minute. The time stretched on, and Lily's stomach started to twist into knots.

Shouldn't they be back by now? What if they were hurt and needed help?

She forced the thoughts out of her mind. They would come for her; they had to. They must be dealing with the Aurors. Yes, that's it. Her family defeated the bad guys—good always won—and were speaking with the authorities. It just wasn't safe yet.

That was it.

Just as the clock marked an hour of hiding, Lily heard the muffled sound of the crawlspace door opening. Finally, everything was okay!

"Mum? Dad?"

She shouldn't have said anything because the voice that responded was not one she recognized.

"She's in here somewhere!"

Terrified, Lily scrambled back and pressed herself against the wall. There was nowhere to run. Where was the way out her mother promised! She never lied, so what—

Lily looked down at the watch in her hands. It was glowing blue.

Crying, the Portkey activated, and she vanished.


	3. The Cursed Guardian

**Summary:** The Trolley witch is not having a good day. It is September 1, so that's not much of a surprise. It's more of a question of how bad her day could possibly get.

 **A/N —** We don't have much of a backstory when it comes to the Trolley witch. Although, when I read "Cursed Child," she suddenly seemed a whole lot darker. So this is my headcanon for her: that she is now eternally cursed to protect the ones she used to hunt.

* * *

 **House:** Hufflepuff

 **Year:** 4th

 **Category:** Standard

 **Prompt:** [First Line] It all started with a simple "Good morning", and went downhill from there.

 **Word Count (not including title and author's note):** 863 (Google Docs)

* * *

 **The Cursed Guardian**

It all started with a simple "Good morning," and went downhill from there.

Dumbledore would tell her that it was impossible to know that a simple greeting would herald bad tidings. But as she stared down at the child, who was gazing at her with bright eyes, she knew it would prove to be true. Two words and she was already profoundly irritated. What a way to start the day. Taking a deep breath—Dumbledore had told her it would help—she counted to ten. It did not help, so she tried again.

She still wanted to rip off the child's head. But she did not. Oh, not because she had learned any restraint during the last two hundred years. She was prevented from harming a child—physically _or_ emotionally—by the ancient oath that bound her to the Express.

Instead, she plastered a cheery smile on her face. Goddess, this was going to be a terrible day.

"Good morning to you too, dear," she replied. "Anything off the trolley?"

The child shook his head, giggling and shouting to his friends down the corridor. They waved him over to a compartment, and he darted off without another word to her. She rolled her eyes.

 _Children._

Sighing, she continued her route, her annoyance hidden behind a grandmotherly mask. Children raced down the halls, bumping into her no less than seventeen times. Once, she had to wave away a rogue owl, who was trying to steal sweets from the cart.

Then a child—a first year by the look of her—threw up on her shoe.

"I'm sorry!" The girl wailed. She felt her eye twitch and wondered if the child had banshee blood in her. "I didn't mean to do it! I'm just so nervous!"

 _I hope you get sorted into Slytherin,_ the older witch thought vindictively.

She didn't say that aloud, though. The magic stopped her. Instead, she waved her wand and silently vanished the mess.

"No harm, dear," she replied as she patted the girl on the head. "Why don't you drink some water?"

Handing the girl a bottle of water, she moved on before she screamed.

Exploding Snap exploded in her face; first years didn't know how to handle Chocolate Frogs; a fifth-year accidentally enlarged a toad to the size of a goat instead of vanishing it; she had her robes changed to a vibrant orange by a few ambitious third-year students.

The Weasley twins witnessed the last incident. For once, they didn't laugh at a prank. Instead, they silently changed her robes back and apologized for the younger children. Keeping their eyes down, they dragged the third-years away, talking to them in low, urgent tones.

She smirked. It was good to know that someone still feared and respected her.

It was not too long after that disturbance, however, that the Express ground to a halt.

The old witch was instantly on high alert. They were nowhere near their destination. There was at least another hour of travel to go, and she still had two train cars to visit. Something was very wrong.

Then the lights flickered off, and children started panicking.

She pulled out her wand and vanished the trolley. It would only get in her way.

"Lumos," she muttered. Light instantly filled the corridor, and the nearby chatter halted. A dozen scared eyes looked up at her.

It was her job to keep them safe until they arrived at Hogwarts. Then they were Dumbledore's problem. Calmly and without one sarcastic comment—she was so proud—she ushered them back into their compartments.

As she closed the last door, she heard them.

The rattling breaths echoed in the now empty hall, and frost crackled over the window panes. She should have known they would try something like this, considering Black's prison escape.

She turned and saw two Dementors floating down the narrow corridor toward her. More breathing told her there was another behind her. She scowled—this was not making her day any better.

Raising her wand, she thought of a happy memory. She missed the days when the world was wilder and more dangerous. Her body and soul ached for the ages long since past, when she could walk freely beneath the dark sky and through the reeds and marshlands.

She thought of feasting on the magic and hearts of those she was cursed to now protect.

"Expecto Patronum."

The spell was casually cast, almost as if the demons around her did not matter—which they did not. They were feared, of course, but at one point, so was she.

A white beam radiated from her wand, forming into a giant dire wolf. The patronus made quick work of the Dementors. Another pale light emitted down the corridor, driving away another Dementor. The creatures quickly scattered and the gloom lifted from the train.

The lights came back on, and a moment later, the train began to move.

The witch sighed. Well, back to work it would seem. At least she only had another hour to go, and then she was on vacation until the holidays. Plastering what she hoped was a comforting smile, she turned to the group of children in the nearest compartment.

"Anything off the trolley, dears?"


	4. A Good Man

**Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. All rights go to respective owners.**

* * *

 **Summary:** Despite the war, Remus has a tender moment with his family. Meanwhile, other people are less than impressed with the fluffy, sappy emotions.

 **A/N —** Eh, it's a bit of a crack!fic towards the end. Take it for what you will :)

* * *

 **House:** Hufflepuff

 **Year:** 4th

 **Category:** Short

 **Prompt:** [First Line] Tomorrow comes whether we want it to or not.

 **Word Count (not including title and author's note):** (with: "Meanwhile, somewhere beyond the Veil…"): 1516 / (without: "Meanwhile, somewhere beyond the Veil…"): 1511 (Google Docs)

* * *

 **A Good Man**

 _Tomorrow comes whether we want it to or not._

The words echoed in his mind, almost taunting him. They were living in a war—they had brought a child into this conflicted world—and no matter what he did, Remus couldn't stop bad things from happening. It wasn't only on his shoulders.

But no matter what he did, trouble always seemed to follow him.

If he had been a better man, maybe some of this heartache could have been avoided. Remus held Teddy, who was finally sound asleep, closer to his chest and tried not to cry.

He was a failure, of course—just like he had when he had left. In so many ways, he was not good enough. It was his job, as a husband and father, to always be there for his wife and son; instead, his fear had driven him away. Even at the mere thought of what he had done, shame and regret once more ate away at his heart, and tears quietly streamed down his cheeks.

She had forgiven him; of course, she had.

Tonks was a beautiful and compassionate woman. There had been a moment that Remus thought she might have left him out on the front lawn to get soaked in the rain, his metaphorical tail tucked between his legs, but she hadn't. It was a tense moment, but it had ultimately been little Teddy in her arms, who had melted both of their hearts. His quick smile and giggle—and the way he had reached out his tiny hands when he had seen Remus—was the catalyst to mend her broken heart.

His son's smile banished the fear in his mind. He didn't know how he had missed it before, but he knew now that it was true. It gave him the strength to be a better man and father.

Teddy shifted somewhat in his sleep, bringing Remus back to the present.

Remus readjusted his hold and moved to gently lay his son down in the crib, only to stop at the last second. Instead, Remus crossed the nursery and sat on the rocking chair in the corner.

He made sure to grab the soft, forest-green blanket from the nearby dresser. It was the one that Teddy liked best, and the color reminded Remus of his nighttime escapades in the Forest back during his school days. He lightly laid it over his son. Teddy sighed in apparent content and snuggled closer.

These were the moments that made life worth it; he realized that now. Except—

 _No._

He quickly banished the thought, although doubts and worry still lingered.

 _They will be alright. Harry will be okay. And besides, I'm needed here._

Remus smiled down at his sleeping son, whose hair spontaneously changed color, from bright blue to a brown reminiscent to his own. He softly chuckled. Leaning over, he pressed a soft kiss to Teddy's forehead.

"You don't want to be like me, son," he whispered. Warmth fluttered to life in his heart, and he squashed the fear that tried to rise with it. "You want to be better than me. I want you to be better than me."

"You're giving him a lot to live up to."

It was instinctive. Remus' wand was in his hand and pointed toward the intruder. But before he could whisper a spell, he forced himself to stop and think. He was in a warded room within a heavily protected house. It couldn't be someone that would cause him or his family harm.

The only person it could be was—

"Wotcher, Remus," Tonks replied lightly. Her tone may have been soft, but her eyes were fierce; her wand was at the ready.

Remus lowered his wand. "Sorry, Tonks," he mumbled.

"It's fine. Anyway, it's not me you should be apologizing to," she said with a small laugh.

He raised a questioning eyebrow, and she gave a pointed look down. Teddy stared up at him with bright eyes. He clapped excitedly and giggled, pleased that he was awake and held. Remus sighed.

"Does he ever sleep?" he asked, handing Teddy over into Tonks' waiting arms.

"Nope," she replied, far too cheerfully.

Remus watched as she rocked Teddy for a few minutes and tried to get him to go back to sleep. He soon began squirming in her arms, reaching for Remus instead.

"Traitor," Tonks muttered. She handed Teddy to him.

"He just knows that I'm the fun parent," he teased. Once more, Teddy curled up against his chest. His eyes were barely open, as he blinked sleepily.

"He's just buttering you up now, so he can later—" she replied, only to cut herself off. An awkward tension filled the room.

They had been so careful, considering the constant danger they were in, to not mention things too far into the future. It hurt to think about the things they wanted for their son, but might never be able to give him. Tomorrow—at least, the one they hoped for—was not guaranteed.

"Remus, I—" Tonks began to apologize.

"I think he would come to me first, to ask for his first broom," he said, surprising both of them. Tonks snorted.

"You? No, he would go to that hellion we made his godfather," she said, her lips turning upwards into a small smile. "He would go to you for pranks."

"I'd like to think he would ask me for good study habits first," Remus muttered a bit petulantly. He looked down at Teddy. His son was trying so hard to stay awake. "But I'd like to think that if he could talk right now, he'd ask me for a bedtime story."

Tonks smiled at him and kissed his cheek.

"You're a good man, Remus," she whispered. "Tomorrow will come, and I promise it will be okay. Don't stay up too late."

On that note, she left the nursery and headed back down the hall to their bedroom.

"What do you say, son?" Remus said. "It's just you and me now. We can even see about making this a nightly thing…"

He settled back into the rocking chair and began to tell a story. Not a made-up fairy tale, as would be common in situations like this. Instead, he told a story that was far better because it was true.

"There was once a lonely, young werewolf, who hoped for a better future. The problem was that he felt like he was all alone in the world—partially because he was. He didn't have any friends until he traveled across the country to go to a magical castle. There, he met three other boys—brave, reckless, and stubborn—and a fiery young girl, who showed him that he deserved more in life.

"The trouble was that he didn't believe them..."

.oOo.

 _Meanwhile, somewhere beyond the Veil..._

.oOo.

"Oh, come on!" Sirius grumbled as he threw handfuls of popcorn at the projected image in the water of a misty lake. "That's a terrible story!"

"I think it's sweet," Lily said as she sat down next to her friend. "Tonks has been good for him."

"Yeah, but there are way better stories to tell than him moping," he protested. "Bloody hell, we were illegal Animagi that helped a werewolf during the full moon. We played pranks in school; there are definitely better stories. And besides, he mentioned you but not Marlene."

"Don't worry, darling. One day, he will pay for his forgetfulness."

Sirius and Lily turned to see Marlene walk up to them. She was pretending to crack her knuckles menacingly, but ruined the persona by laughing and winking at Sirius.

Time and space worked strangely here. If someone mentioned another by name, they tended to appear. It was as if they were called.

That's why no one had yet mentioned Dumbledore's name.

Lily rolled her eyes. "Yes, but I think he was trying to be sentimental."

Sirius grumbled and threw another handful of popcorn into the water.

"Also, for goodness' sake, Sirius, stop throwing things in the Waters of Time and Memory. You'll attract the ducks again, and then you won't be able to see anything."

Sirius turned and glared at the ducks clustered at the edge of the water. The leader tilted its head to the side and flapped its wings as if to say, _'What? You think you can seriously take me and my army?'_

"I hate you," he grumbled to the birds. The duck-leader quacked and ruffled its feathers, as if it was taking his lackluster comeback as a sign of defeat. Sirius growled, and Lily rolled her eyes.

"James, tell Sirius that he's being unreasonable," she said.

"You're being unreasonable, Sirius," James dutifully replied. He stood behind the two of them and was looking into the water. Remus was gently rocking his son, who was now practically asleep. Lily was right—because of course she was.

Tonks and Teddy were good for his friend. That didn't stop the feeling of dread settle over him.

Tomorrow would come for each one of them, whether they wanted it to or not.

James just hoped they would have many happy ones together in the future.


	5. Exhausted

**Summary:** Hermione searches for her parents in Australia and hits her breaking point.

* * *

 **House:** Hufflepuff  
 **Year:** 4th  
 **Category:** Drabble  
 **Prompt:** [Weather] Dust storm / Additional Requirement: Family  
 **Word Count (not including title and author's note):** 513 (Google Docs)

 **Betaed by:** **Magi Silverwolf and gr8rockstarrox. Thank you!**

* * *

 **Exhausted**

No one understood.

Hermione gripped the steering wheel a little tighter and pressed down on the accelerator. The car accelerated, but she could barely tell with the monotonous landscape around her. There was nothing but desert and an endless road before her.

No one understood her desperate need to find her parents. Ron had called her obsessed after one of their usual rows, and she had snapped. Their relationship had ended with him leaving her in an empty flat. Her friendships with Harry and Ginny were frayed, even more so after the break-up. Hermione knew what people were saying behind her back, but she alone knew the truth.

If she couldn't find them... If she couldn't reverse what she had done...

She had erased herself from her parents' memories. The blame rested with her alone. If she couldn't fix it, then her family was lost forever.

 _No one_ understood.

Suddenly, out of the corner of her eye, she saw a piece of desert that didn't make sense. For a moment, it looked like a mountain range but more smudged; they were clouds the color of mountains. Then it clicked.

"Damn it!" She hit the steering wheel with her fist.

It was a massive dust storm, and Hermione was caught driving down some godforsaken road in the middle of the Australian Outback. The next town wasn't for ages. These types of storms could roll through areas quickly, but there were records of some lasting days. _Days_. She couldn't wait that long.

"Damn it," she said again. Vaguely, she knew she would have chided Ron or Harry for this kind of language and behavior, but she didn't want to think about it at the moment. All she did was drive faster.

She kept going and anxiously watched the storm roll across the desert. Fifteen minutes passed, and the sandstorm was almost upon her. She reluctantly pulled off the road and turned the car lights off while keeping the car running, as per the safety tips the rental place had given her.

It wasn't fair.

Hermione felt tears sting her eyes, and she furiously brushed them away. Now wasn't the time to break down; she had to find her family. She tried to take a deep breath and remind herself that she could start driving again in about an hour—day-long dust storms were rare—but it didn't work. Hermione took a few frantic shuddering breaths, her heart beating painfully, and then screamed.

Harry had told her before she left for Australia that she needed to grieve. She had told him that she had cried—which was true. When Ron had abandoned them, she had cried; same when she had thought Harry had died. Each death had brought fresh tears, and of course, she had cried when Bellatrix had tortured her.

He had given her a pitying look as if he knew something she didn't, and she had told him to leave her alone. Hermione wished he hadn't listened to her.

As the sky darkened and the road ahead disappeared, she finally allowed herself to let go, and cried.


	6. The Kisses

**Summary:** Daphne Greengrass receives thimbles in the mail from a mysterious person.

 **A/N —** This is a Daphne/Hermione pairing, so it's obviously a bit AU. (Also, please tell me get the Peter Pan reference...)

* * *

 **House:** Hufflepuff  
 **Year:** 4th  
 **Category:** Additional  
 **Prompt:** [Object] Thimble  
 **Word Count (not including title and author's note):** [including: .oOo.] 702 / [not including: .oOo.] 698 (Google Docs)

 **Betaed by:** **Magi Silverwolf and gr8rockstarrox. Thank you!**

* * *

 **The Kisses**

Daphne Greengrass was confused. She stared between the now-open envelope and tiny screech owl on the table before her.

"Whatcha got, Daphne?"

She looked up to see Tracey grinning at her from across the table. The rest of Slytherin was chattering away with their friends, and a handful of students were also opening their mail. No one but her best friend noticed her confusion. Daphne shrugged, unable to explain, and just showed Tracey what had been in the envelope.

Daphne held out a thimble. Tracey frowned.

"Why would someone send you that?" she asked. Then she smiled slyly. "Is your mother trying to make you a domestic housewife again?"

"You know I would have received a long letter, detailing all of my shortcomings," Daphne replied wryly. "There's no note or anything."

"Weird," Tracey replied eloquently. Daphne couldn't help but agree.

She should throw it out. After all, there could be curses or other unwanted enchantments on it. But for some reason, she stuck it in her pocket.

.oOo.

The day after she joined the Inquisitorial Squad, Daphne received another mysterious envelope.

Once more, there was no letter or name. The only thing inside the tiny package was another thimble. This one was a dull blue, and for some reason, she felt guilty. Nevertheless, she stuck it in her pocket with the other one, which she always kept with her. It had become a good luck charm.

She wondered what this one would be to her.

.oOo.

Over the course of a few weeks, Daphne received more thimbles. One was tiny and emerald; she got that one after Slytherin won the Quidditch game versus Hufflepuff. Another was purple, her favorite color. Each one seemed to match something about her or the potential mood of the sender. She was hypothesizing about the latter, of course, since she still didn't know who was sending them.

.oOo.

She shouldn't have stepped in, but for some reason she had.

Daphne had not only stopped Draco from bullying a group of second-year Hufflepuffs and Hermione Granger, who was strangely alone, but also reversed his point deductions.

Later, she explained her behavior away to Draco and the rest of Slytherin as a part of the Inquisitorial Squad's mission. Umbridge had ordered them to watch Potter and his friends; it hurt their case to antagonize them more than necessary. They might even be less suspicious of her in the future.

Most Slytherins recognized the cunning nature of her words, and the night ended peacefully.

The next morning, Daphne received another thimble. She was glad she had intervened because she knew the identity of her mysterious gifter.

Clutching the scarlet thimble in her hand, she apologized to Tracey and Blaise and ran to the library.

.oOo.

Daphne found her in an isolated corner of the library. She was leaning over a large tome, quickly reading the tiny writing, her frizzy hair pulled back into a ponytail. A strange thought flitted through her mind; surrounded by books in the lamplight, Hermione looked pretty. Which was ridiculous.

Right?

Suddenly, Daphne felt nervous. What was she going to say? _'Why have you been sending me thimbles?'_ seemed strange and lacking in some way.

' _Thanks for the thimbles'_ seemed weirder.

"Are you just going to stand there all day?"

Hermione's whisper snapped her from her thoughts, and Daphne locked eyes with her.

"Thanks for the thimbles."

Okay, weirder it was.

She blushed, while Hermione smiled softly. The Gryffindor gestured to the seat next to her. Daphne moved to take it when she suddenly stopped.

"No one will notice," Hermione said.

Daphne carefully sat down. They sat quietly, and Daphne was unsure of what to say next. Everything felt different. She was sitting next to Hermione Granger, a girl that she kind of, sort of, maybe a little liked. She was a Muggle-born and Gryffindor—everything she was supposed to hate.

Daphne was slowly realizing that she was different from who she thought she was.

"What's with the thimbles?" Daphne finally blurted out.

"You mean the kisses?" Hermione said. She laughed at Daphne's confused look and shook her head.

"It's a Muggle thing. Remind me to send you the book."

Daphne found that she could hardly wait.


	7. Love Conquers All

**Summary:** Draco works on the Vanishing Cabinet and tries to find a way to fix everything.

 **A/N —** I'm very, very, VERY loosely using Arthurian legend. Also, "The Shining Trio" that Draco mentions is the (made up) wizarding name for Alpha Centauri, a very real triple star system. The mythos (VERY loosely) based on Arthurian legend is also completely made up.

* * *

 **House:** Hufflepuff  
 **Year:** 4th  
 **Category:** Standard  
 **Prompt:** [Setting] The Room of Requirement / Additional Requirement: Love Conquers All  
 **Word Count (not including title and author's note):** 863 (Google Docs)

 **Betaed by:** **Magi Silverwolf. Thank you!**

* * *

 **Love Conquers All**

Draco kicked the Vanishing Cabinet and clenched his fists. He steadied his breathing, just like his mother had taught him. His behavior was childish—his father would have been most disappointed—but he couldn't help it. They were his feelings, damn it. He was allowed to have them.

It wasn't like he could stop them, anyway.

He could feel time running out, like sand steadily falling in an hourglass. There was nothing he could do to stop it. The Dark Lord was quickly growing impatient; Draco could feel it through the mark on his arm. The threat of displeasing the Dark Lord was sure to motivate most people, but he knew Draco and his flaws.

Well, _one_ weakness in particular.

If Draco couldn't fix this cabinet and find an entrance into Hogwarts for the other Death Eaters, then his mother would be tortured.

He sank to his knees and closed the doors of the Vanishing Cabinet. Resting his head against the cool wood, Draco closed his eyes.

 _Just five minutes_ , he thought desperately. _Five minutes of peace._

The Room of Requirement responded instantly. Even though Draco couldn't see it, he could feel everything shift. It was something in the air, a tingle and twist of magic, and the area emptied. The air became slightly colder, and he shivered.

Draco opened his eyes.

He knelt beneath a canopy of stars and spinning galaxies.

The room no longer held forgotten and lost things; instead, it had become his planetarium. He looked down and was startled to see more stars beneath him. The room gave him the illusion that he was floating in space. He cautiously stood. The ground was still there, but it sure didn't look like it; for a brief moment, Draco felt dizzy.

After a moment, he found his bearings.

"I would like to see the Shining Trio, please," Draco said.

Stars and galaxies, most without names, flew past him in streaks of light. He crouched down to find a better center of gravity. He logically knew that he was inside and standing on the ground, but it didn't feel like it. Just as quickly as it all started, though, it stopped.

Draco straightened to find three blinding stars in front of him. He didn't know if the Muggles had another name for them—and he didn't particularly care. They would always be the Shining Trio to him.

It was one of the many tales she used to tell him. She knew everything about the stars and constellations. After all, before she became a Malfoy, she had been a Black.

She told him stories about the constellation he was named after, and others in his family. Although, he loved the story about the Shining Trio the most.

The story begins with the end of the war between King Arthur, Merlin, and Morgana; it ended in fire and desolation. Merlin imprisoned Morgana on Avalon, never to interfere in the affairs of the world again. King Arthur and Morgana's apprentice, Mordred, mortally wounded each other in the battle. There was nothing Merlin could do to save him.

When he informed Queen Guinevere, she was torn apart by grief. The stories differ on how she died—whether it was young and from a broken heart, or peacefully in her sleep when she was old. Draco liked to think that it was the former. Either way, when she died, Merlin visited the Fates and asked for them to always be together in the afterlife.

Arthur and Guinevere had loved each other, and the Fates agreed. Two stars, equal in brilliance, appeared in the night sky. They danced around each other in the cosmos.

Years passed, and Merlin eventually disappeared into myth. Some say he died, while others believe that he is still wandering the earth. But the story of the Shining Trio states that the moment Merlin stopped walking this world, the two stars were joined by a third. It was smaller than the others and harder to see, but it still orbited the two. Always lovingly guarding them, from this life into the next.

Draco felt tears sting the corner of his eyes. The Shining Trio and the rest of the stars faded from view. He closed his eyes. The Room of Requirement once more responded to his wishes. The room felt more cluttered, and the air became warmer. He felt the change finish and opened his eyes.

He was standing in front of the Vanishing Cabinet, surrounded by lost and forgotten things. Draco tentatively, then more confidently, reached out and opened the doors.

"I'm going to fix this," he says to himself. And he's not just talking about the blasted cabinet. No, he's going to fix everything.

He'll find a way for the Death Eaters to come into Hogwarts, even though it's the wrong thing to do. He'll figure out a way to shake Potter, who thinks he's so clever and sneaky. But most importantly, he'll find a way to save his mother.

Maybe, he can even figure out a way for the two of them to survive the oncoming war. After all, love conquers all—anything is possible, right?

And the rest of the world can go screw itself.


	8. The Lure of Adventure

**Summary:** Minerva McGonagall meets the Lady of the Wood as she unknowingly gets pulled into another Horcrux hunt—only this time, worlds away.

 **A/N:** This is a Lord of the Rings/Harry Potter crossover. I used the Lord of the Rings movies as inspiration and models for the characters and locations.

* * *

 **House:** Hufflepuff  
 **Year:** 4th  
 **Category:** Bonus Round  
 **Prompt:** [crossover] The Lord of the Rings (character: Galadriel; setting: Lothlórien); [character] Minerva McGonagall; [action] chasing  
 **Word Count (not including title and author's note): 1807**

A/N 2: The [action] chasing prompt is used in a few ways. Minerva chasing down a lost pet; Minerva chasing down another Horcrux (the One Ring); and adventure chasing after Minerva (and her chasing after Frodo).

 **Betaed by: Aya and Magi** **. Thank you!**

* * *

 **The Lure of Adventure**

Minerva was ready for retirement.

She was tired of chasing students around the corridors, attempting to enforce rules and curfew, and teaching. That had been what really hit home for her and how she knew it was time for her to leave. If she did not enjoy teaching anymore, then it was time to go. The students deserved a professor who loved what she did, and a headmistress who did not find her job a burden.

She was ready to leave.

 _But just one more year…_

She shook her head at her own folly. Albus would have chided her, his eyes twinkling over half-moon glasses, and asked her why she was second-guessing herself. And he would be right—he always was.

The end of the year was still ten months away, however, and she needed to focus on her job. Which was currently finding a lost pet kitten in the Forbidden Forest.

Daisy Lovelace, a second-year Slytherin, had arrived in her office first thing that morning, completely distraught. Her eyes were red and tear stains marked her cheeks. Snickers, her kitten, had wandered off, and apparently the last place anyone saw it was near the Forbidden Forest.

All it took was one look, and Minerva knew that the poor girl was telling the truth. Neville Longbottom, the newest professor, had offered to go searching for the lost cat, but Minerva turned him down. She may be older and not as spry as she once was, but this task was best suited for her.

So that was how she ended up in the Forbidden Forest in her animagus form, chasing after a lost pet.

Minerva darted through the underbrush, her small form and heightened senses greatly enhancing her mission. The trail had gone cold, as the Muggles would say, a few times, but she had always found it again. Stopping to sniff the air, she made certain she was on the right track. Changing her course slightly, she dashed out of the thicket and into a clearing.

She slowed to a walk. There was a dense fog hovering above the ground. Minerva was not one to be superstitious, but something about the glen felt eerie and unsettling. But this was the way the kitten had gone; she was sure of it. She shifted back into her human form and took out her wand.

Better safe than sorry.

She flicked her wand and the end illuminated. It did not break through the heavy mist well, but at least she could see a little further ahead.

Minerva took another step forward and the world _shifted._

It felt like she had Apparated but only gentler. Instead of feeling like she was pulled through a straw, Minerva felt like she was suddenly _elsewhere_. The fog was still around her and the atmosphere was eerie, but she instinctively knew that she was not in the Forbidden Forest anymore.

She turned around but the fog was even thicker behind her. The Sorting Hat had once considered her for both Ravenclaw and Gryffindor, so the intellectual side of her knew there was no going back the way she came. Besides, she still had to find Snickers.

The Gryffindor side of her—reckless, brave, and adventurous—said that even if she could go back, she shouldn't. There was adventure to be had and new things to discover.

The only way was forward.

So she kept walking. As she did, the fog dispelled and she suddenly saw the forest around her. The trees towered far above her, ancient and strong, and the air was lighter.

She never heard the threat approach.

One moment, Minerva was gazing at her surroundings; the next, she had a dozen arrows in her face. A man—no. She saw the pointed ears and the name came to her. It was a name from Muggle myths and legends, and Minerva wondered just how far from home she had truly traveled.

He was an elf.

"Á pusta!"

She didn't know what he was shouting at her, but it wasn't like she would have listened anyway. Holding her wand up, she raised her hands as if surrendering, only to spin on the spot.

A crack of displaced air.

A shocked cry from the other elves.

And Minerva was suddenly standing behind their leader, half a dozen stunned bodies lying around her, with her wand pressed between his shoulder blades. She couldn't help it—she felt a little smug.

Not bad for a witch looking to retire.

"Ma mauya?" he asked.

Not that he could see it, but Minerva raised an unimpressed eyebrow.

"Do you speak English?"

Her tone was light but firm. To drive the point home, she pressed her wand to his back harder. She wasn't against other languages or cultures—after all, she was fluent in Scottish Gaelic and knew a smattering of French and Italian. It was simply that for all she knew, he could be pretending to talk to her while giving orders to his remaining men. It was best if they could all be on the same page.

"You bring a darkness with you," the elf replied.

 _ **Welcome, Minerva, sorceress from another realm…**_

She stiffened. The voice seemed to echo around her, mingling with the whispering trees and inside her mind. The elf lowered his hands— _When had he pulled out a dagger?_ —and turned to face her.

"What was that?" she asked.

"The Lady of the Wood wishes to speak with you," he said. The elf gave her an appraising look as if he too were searching for a reason to this madness. "We will escort you to her."

"Haldir, we must honor the fallen," another elf said while glaring at Minerva. She turned her wand on the stunned guards.

"Or I could just revive them," she said.

"It is not possible to bring back the dead," the elf replied smugly.

She really was finding too much pleasure in their confusion.

.oOo.

Minerva thought that Harry would like Haldir. They both were loyal and incredibly talented, but also took themselves a little too seriously. There were so many times on their hour-long hike through the forest that she wanted to tell him to relax.

Eventually, they made it to their destination—Haldir said something in elvish, which he was kind enough to translate it to English after a minute. According to him, the city's name was The Fortress of Trees—a rather obvious name for the city since it was literally formed from trees.

They made their way through the city. It was quiet, and Minerva only saw a few other elves. She had a feeling, though, that there were more people around her than she knew. They reached the end of the path, a winding staircase made of tree roots led down.

"She is waiting for you."

Minerva turned to find that she was alone with Haldir. The elves were unsettlingly quiet and seemed to disappear and reappear silently.

"Aren't you coming with me?"

The question was an honest one. What kind of guard felt comfortable leaving a dangerous stranger alone with their leader? What did that say about Minerva?

More ominously, though, is what did that say about their queen?

"No."

The reply was short but there was a kindness in Haldir's eyes. He gave her a slight smile and nodded toward the stairs. She wanted to draw her wand but thought better of it. The less of a threat she seemed, the better.

She followed the steps down into a hollow. Trees lined the edges so tightly that she couldn't see into the surrounding forest. Autumn leaves littered the ground and a pedestal with a bowl stood in the middle of the clearing. It reminded Minerva of Dumbledore's Pensieve.

Carefully walking forward, she looked into the still water.

This was not like Dumbledore's Pensieve.

As soon as she was within a foot of it, the waters swirled and images appeared.

 _The peaceful and strong forest she currently stood in turned to ash before her eyes…_

 _Women and children were slaughtered while monsters ravaged the hillside…_

 _A child, his brown hair flopping over his face, clutching a ring…_

 _Another elf, raven-haired and fair, dying in a forgotten palace by a waterfall…_

 _A wizard, cloaked in white, fighting on a lonely mountain peak against a giant monster…_

 _Fire and darkness—evil personified—searching, always searching for the boy with the ring…_

Minerva gasped and wrenched her eyes from the images. She stumbled back and steadied her breathing.

That was nothing like Dumbledore's Pensieve.

"Greetings, Minerva. Welcome to Lothlórien."

Once more, she didn't hear the newcomer approach, but this time she recognized the voice. It was the same voice from the woods, only this time it was not in her head. She turned and faced the Lady of the Wood.

She wasn't what Minerva was expecting. Yes, she looked like all of the other elves—tall and fair—but there was a hidden cunning in her eyes and power that radiated from her.

"What was that?"

Despite all she had been through and survived, this rattled her. The water in the bowl might have looked harmless, but it was anything but. The horrors of war that unfolded before her were unspeakable…

"Things that might come to pass," Lady Galadriel replied, "if you do not intervene."

"That ring," Minerva said. "The one the child carried— _he_ was after it. Wasn't he?"

The Lady of Lothlórien nodded.

"His soul was bound to the Ring. Only the fires of Mount Doom can destroy it. The hobbit, Frodo, faces a dark and lonely journey as the Ring Bearer."

"It's another bloody Horcrux!"

Minerva's outburst caused Galadriel to take a step back. Her eyes widened in surprise.

 _ **You have seen something similar before…**_

"Will you please stop speaking in my head?" she snapped.

Taking a deep breath, she closed her eyes.

Harry had once told her that he had never meant to cause so many problems at school. "I never went looking for trouble," he had said. "Trouble always found me." Misfortune and obstacles always seemed to dog his steps; Minerva thought he had been exaggerating.

But maybe she had been wrong…

There was only one thing to do. Squaring her shoulders, she opened her eyes.

"When did Frodo leave?" Minerva demanded. "If you can provide me with a location, I can meet him there."

"I would say that he is at least a three days journey from us by this point," Galadriel replied. "However, I feel that you have a quicker way to find him."

Minerva grinned. It wasn't a gentle smile that graced her face. Rather it was one that said she was going to war and her enemies had a lot to fear.

"Precisely. Although, before I leave, I must ask. Have you seen a small kitten? It answers to the name Snickers."

It was always important to finish one mission before starting the next.

* * *

 **A/N 3:** Elvish translations are taken from arwen(hyphen) . I used the Quenya phrases as that was used by the elves in Lothlórien.

Á pusta!: Stop!  
Ma mauya?: Is it necessary?


	9. Self-Discovery

**Summary:** Hermione receives her Hogwarts letter and makes her younger sister, Desdemona, a promise.

 **A/N:** Desdemona is an OC that Puddlemere United created when we found out that J.K. Rowling originally intended for Hermione to have a younger sister. Lin, Ad, and June are most of the masterminds behind her character. Desdemona is the Muggle younger sister to Hermione. She is panromantic and asexual, and an LGBTQ(plus) activist. At one point, she dates Cho but ultimately ends up with Dudley (they have a magical kid together). Where Hermione is a genius, Desdemona is physically strong and bada**. During the war, she helps fleeing Muggleborn witches and wizards. For more information about Desdemona, feel free to PM or check out some of their stories :)

* * *

 **House:** Hufflepuff  
 **Year:** 4th  
 **Category:** Standard  
 **Prompt:** [Weather] Clear skies  
 **Word Count (not including title and author's note): 923**

 **Betaed by: Aya** **. Thank you!**

* * *

 **Self-Discovery**

"You know, I'm fully expecting something terrible to happen."

Hermione leaned back on the swing and pushed to go higher. The autumn leaves in the tree above her whispered gently in the breeze. She didn't know what her sister was talking about. Something terrible? The sky was blue and clear.

It was a perfect day.

"What do you mean?" Hermione just had to ask. Knowledge of any kind was like an itch to her; she had to satisfy her curiosity. Their parents called her a sponge that had yet to reach its limit. Hermione called that an odd metaphor.

Desdemona shrugged.

"I don't know," she mumbled. "It just feels like something bad is going to happen."

"Don't be silly."

Hermione abruptly stopped swinging. Her sister, while about a year younger and smaller than her, grabbed the rope of the swing, stopping her.

"Don't call me that! I'm not silly!"

Hermione scowled, matching her sister's expression.

"Well, you are!"

"No, I'm not!"

"Yes, you are!"

The sisters continued bickering, their voices growing louder. They were so involved in their argument that they didn't hear their mother walk out into the back garden until she was right next to them.

"Girls!"

They turned in unison.

" _What?_ "

Their mother frowned, but it also looked like she was trying not to laugh. She had said in the past that Hermione and Desdemona were more alike than they were different.

Hermione hoped they were different, though.

Strange things always seemed to happen around her. She read a lot, and mostly fantasy, too. Hermione knew what was happening around her, _to_ her. It was the secret she had never told anyone. Logic told Hermione that magic wasn't real—but it also couldn't deny floating books and glowing orbs that danced around her darkened room. That gave it away.

She hadn't decided if her magic was a curse or a blessing, or if it would get stronger. But for her sister's sake, Hermione hoped they were different.

"Go inside and clean up," their mother said. She brushed a bit of dirt of the back of Desdemona's shirt.

"There's someone here to see Hermione."

.oOo.

Later that night—long after Professor McGonagall had left and Hermione and her family had an awkward, stilted dinner—there was a knock on Hermione's door.

"Come in, Des."

The door creaked open, and Desdemona slipped into the room. It was dark. Hermione usually read until midnight or so, but not tonight. She had too many thoughts in her head.

"How'd you know it was me?" Desdemona sat on the edge of Hermione's bed. "Was it...you know."

"Magic?" Hermione said with a raised eyebrow. "Des, seriously?"

Hermione leaned over and gently rapped on her nightstand, mimicking the beat she just heard.

 _Knock, knock, knock. Pause. Knock, knock._

"You always tap on my door like that. Who else would it be?"

Desdemona didn't say anything, and the sisters were quiet again. Hermione could tell her sister wanted to say something by the way she was fidgeting. She didn't have to wait long to find out what was on her mind.

"I'm not going to get a letter, Hermione."

Her miserable tone was like a fist around Hermione's heart. Hermione opened her mouth, but no words came. She wanted to comfort Desdemona, but she didn't know how to respond.

As it would turn out, she didn't have to say anything.

"But that's okay."

"What?"

Desdemona turned and fully faced Hermione.

"Call it a gut instinct, but I know I won't get a letter. None of the stuff that happened to you has happened to me. Just promise me that you won't leave me behind."

"Des," Hermione said, reaching out and resting a hand on her sister's shoulder, "Professor McGonagall wouldn't let you come with me."

"I'm not talking about that."

"Then what are you talking about?"

"I want you to keep me informed," Desdemona said, "about all the things that happen at school. And I'll do the same for what's happening here. And you need to promise me something else."

"I'll do anything for you, Desdemona."

"I know, Hermione," she replied, scooting over and leaning against her shoulder. "Promise me that you'll be the best, and when you need help, you'll ask me first."

"What if I fail?"

The anxiety and fear poured out of Hermione with that one question, and she couldn't stop it. The worry was like a river that she couldn't hold back.

"What if I can't keep up with the other students? Many of them probably grew up around magic. What if I can't do anything right? What if I'm not good enough?"

Desdemona looked up at Hermione, her eyes shining with love and adoration younger sisters carry for their older siblings.

"You're going to be great, Hermione. You've never been anything less."

.oOo.

The day Hermione and her family traveled to King's Cross was perfect. The sky was surprisingly clear for the season, and the air was crisp.

Hermione and Desdemona shared a look, just before she ran toward the barrier for Platform 9 3/4. The day felt like that afternoon, about a year ago, when Professor McGonagall delivered Hermione's letter—only this time she felt it, too. There was something in the air that had the hairs on the back of Hermione's neck standing on end.

Some people would call it ominous. Others would call it foreshadowing.

Hermione would call it taking one step out of an airplane without knowing if the parachute would work—or if there ever was one.

In a single word: exhilarating.


End file.
